Anything You Wish of me
by A Beautiful Breakdown
Summary: Young Bellatrix, lost amidst the world of dark wizards has found herself at the side of her master. Long has she awaited the day when she might prove her worth in their world, but will her femininity become her downfall? And what of the Marauders?
1. Chapter 1

**Anything you Wish of me**

**Disclaimer**: Harry Potter and the whole idea is owned by the fantastic JK Rowling. Additional Characters (Charlie, Beau and Anny) belong to myself and dear friends of mine.

**Timelne:** Marauder Era, James and the gang are still in school, but what is his darling cousin Bellatrix up to?

* * *

Day had slowly brought itself to a close as then sun rest it''s head gently against the western horizon. A cloudless and dry night lie in wait as they days blistering heat bowed its head to a northern wind. It was just enough to rustle the trees, allowing them to toss their heads, like massive shadows painted against a blood red sky.

For as far as the eye could see in either direction lie a rolling landscape hinted with small shrubs and trees. It was farm land, tuned to waste, an area which had once flourished, and now lie in ruin. The ground was cracked and dry as if had not seen water in weeks. The bit of plant life left was small and weak, barely able to hold themselves up beneath the heat. It was a barren waste land, a rolling valley which lead to no mans land. Scattered ruins of what had once been houses littered what good green foundation survived, but there was no one left...

A sudden pop attracted the attention of a small stray poking it''s way in the shadows of a tall hedge. The creature turned its gaze upon the form of a woman hidden beneath a heavy black cloak. Her lip curled as she turned her attention upon the animal, .

Quickly she began to move down the road which had been described to her. A twisted little lane which branched off into other smaller paths. The hillside like a maze of small walkways all leading in the came direction. Her destination was set against the eastern quadrant, a large gloomy looking house positioned a top a small hill. Thoughts of what lie beyond filled her head, a strange sort of excitement rising beneath her stony exterior. What would lie beyond meant glory and power beyond the comprehension of any mind.

She would get to see _hm_ again. Her lord, her master...

Following the small winding path took some time and the evenings sky grew dark. She moved like a shadow, her arms placed properly at her sides, her face hidden beneath the heavy material of her cloak. It was a long journey, one wearing upon her delicate form. Her step was steady, proper, like a young lady who had been taught proper educate, her movements balanced and serene.

As she approached the door, two over sized men greeted her with a nod. Their faces were covered in masks, odd bony white masks that made them look almost skeletal. Heavy lidded eyes beneath the tiny white holes looked gaunt and dead. Dark circles, black all the way through, as if their eye were one large pupil. The expressions were impossible to read, but she knew what they thinking. Like animals they watched her, low life scum with no real purpose in life but to be used as pawns.

Softly she allowed the heavy material of her hood to drop away, sleek ebony tresses tumbling down over her shoulders. Her features had grown over the years, once a beautiful woman, a statuesque beauty. Now she felt old, as if time and age had worn her through. The weight she had gained added to her high cheekbones, giving her once handsome face a rather adorable childlike look. It pained her to look in a mirror, to walk passed a window, to face herself each day knowing the mistakes she had made. Still she was beautiful, frighteningly so, her eyes held the same intoxicating stare they always did, now laced with something a little more. Hidden deep beyond pools of pure ecstasy lie contempt and danger. An alluring something else which always seemed to draw others towards her. More dangerous now then she had possibly ever been.

There was sudden movement to her right, one of the men had reached out his hand for something. Reached out his hand in her direction. Big mistake.

Her head moved sharpy, eyes narrowed upon the beast like creature as his heavy form lingered at her side. "You move to touch me..." she growled, her hands moving to her stomach in an oddly instinctual manner, "and your lord will punish you in ways your small brains could barely fathom..." Still the moron dallied, his monstrous form invading the girls personal space.

"If you don''t remove yourself, right this instance, " she repeated, she hated repeating herself, "then I will make you useless to the female sex.."

Still he did not move, standing around, hovering over her like a useless animal. Some guards these men turned out to be. The very sight of a woman turned them dumb. Frustrated, her hand struck one in the chest with an unexpected amount of force. "Morons.." she muttered, plowing her way through the two. One grabbed for her wrist, his calloused hands felt like sandpaper. He had moved to speak, but was interrupted by a fist in the jaw.

She didn''t speak, she didn''t return a look, she just walked away, walked through the two gaping morons and into the drab and disgusting home.

It looked like it had been ravaged, turned upside down inside out and any other way imaginable. The drapes were torn, the floor patched in small pools of pale light. Chairs sat overturned, priceless heirlooms lie half broken upon the shelves, as if they were meant to look that way. Dead animals, bones, and scraps of who knows what littered the floor, none of which disturbing enough to deter the young woman from venturing any further.

Beyond that ransacked room lie a hallway, off it, smaller rooms, locked doors, dangers that no man in their right mind would unlock. It was a dangerous place, dark and filled with dark magic. As she walked, her cloak dragging upon fragments of broken furniture, she noticed the pictures in their frames watching her, mumbling things under their breath. Death eaters lie sporadically all over the homestead, all watching her in wordless curiosity as she passed. Jealousy filled the air, they hated her because he loved her so, they hated her for her favoured nature, for her beauty, her power. They hated her for who she was, for who her family was, but most of all, because they wanted more then anything to be her. Mindless adolescent thoughts filled the heads of adults, created monsters of a different nature. She looked at them and didn''t need to feel she was better, she knew it...

Finally, at the end of what felt like forever, a gentle men cloaked in black met her with a bow.

"Ms Black... so wonderful to see you again..." his words were cold, but somehow, someway, she knew he meant it. Despite his arrogant haughty manner, she knew at least someone had her back, and at this point, it was of mild comfort.

"Hale" She nodded curtly, treating the older man with a soft sort of smile. His hand had found itself upon her shoulder, and yet she did not draw back in blinding rage. "You''re well I trust.."

"Oh as well as can be expected miss, has your father sent you, or are you here on your own accord?" He was kind in light of his obvious thirst for dark magic, an old friend of the family or the likes. Still, the young woman treated him to a curious stare, he didn''t know why she was here?

Did anyone?

"I''ve come to see my lord for my own reasons Hale.." her hands traced a slightly swollen tummy. Her faced unimaginable unreadable, confused and happy, sad and desperate, like she didn''t know how she was suppose to feel, or how to feel. Her body was like an emotionless husk, a being without any emotional attachment to the world.

"Very good Ms." the older man stated, bowing his balding head some before pushing open the heavy set wooden doors which separated Ms. Black from her destination.

From then on all others were but mere shadows in the existence of greatness. Her eyes were focussed before in, her body still, mind empty. She knew it best not to think until she were permited. Not to allow the dark lord into her thoughts. She learned this from the punishment of others. Still she found it hard to wipe her mind completely blank. Small questions plagued her, her own childlike curiosity getting the best of her, She felt as if she were floating, her body weightless, like in some sort of insane dream. And he was there, like he had been so many times before, seated in the same place he had been so many times before. His blood red eyes fixed upon her, not looking at her, but into her, beyond her physical being and into the dark aura which filled the room as she entered.

"Bellatrix, my love, please be seated.." It felt like someone had just poured cold water down her back. His voice lingering still within the air moments after his greeting. She didn''t know what to say or what to do, she felt like a kid, filled with excitement and yet so utterly terrified.

"My dear you look tired..." after the initial shock his voice began to sound less god like and more odd. Snake like with a soft wheezing hiss added to the end of certain syllables. He conjured her a hair, sliding it mentally beneath her as she stood there, unsure of what to say.

"T-thank you my Lord.." she managed out as the chair struck behind the knees, causing her to take the seat. "I am honoured at your request for my presence my lord, but forgive my haste curiosity, what is it my lord wishes of me?"

He blatantly ignored her question, rising from his cushioned seat before the fire with unimaginable grace. He looked, somehow, less human then the last time Bellatrix had laid eyes upon him. His eyes had lost the beautiful color, his face turned into something... different. It was unlike anything Bellatrix had ever seen, like a part of him were missing. He felt weaker, as if his humanity had escaped him, replaced by a thick cloud of dark magic. He was cold, cruel, and yet Bellatrix felt something else from him...

"How are you feeling my dear one..." his eyes traipsed over her growing form, from her head to her toes, lingering a moment about her belly. "How is she feeling?" the second question was added with a particular look, a slight undertone laced with deep meaning.

Bellatrix was taken back by this, she didn''t want to answer, and didn''t want him to ask anymore. Her hands placed promptly upon her knees she sat as cold as stone, her eyes fixed before her.

"You''re still angry I see.." Voldemort was now walking around her, circling her seat before he returned to his position by the fireplace. The small flames danced eagerly to escaped, dying away into quiet embers. He knew how she felt, he knew what she wanted to say. It was like a game, some sick twisted game, one in which he made the rules to. "You think I was unfair in my request?"

Was he actually permitting her to voice an opinion?

Was he giving her a moment of equality?

For a short moment all she could do was watch him, her fingers toying with the material of her cloak. Was she brave enough to cross him?

"I''m nineteen years old my lord."

"Yes, and?" as if her words meant nothing...

"And, I made a mistake which I am paying dearly for. Forgive my Lord but why must I go through with this.. Narcissa was the one bread for childbirth, I was meant to be at your side. Now I am nothing more then a weak... a weak woman..." her words choked back, stifling any emotion which dared erupt. She was scared now, obviously terrified. She hated herself and in that moment she hated him, she could barely look at him.

He was quiet a few short moments, treating her to a piteous grin, a knowing smirk which in the end only tormented her further. "Bellatrix, your entire sex was bread for childbirth, you chose your path my darling one, you must live by it and learn..." cold, harsh, cruel, Bellatrix wanted to scream, but Voldemort interrupted her, "Rudolphus deserves this..."

That was it, no more, it hurt, her brain, her body, every inch of her ached. Her eyes burned like hellfire, her voice shook, and before she knew it she was yelling, "WHAT ABOUT WHAT I DESERVE!?" The chair she had been seated in was thrown back and she was standing, shocked and wide eyed and what she had just done.

Yet he was utterly calm about it. So blaséé that it drove her absolutely wild. It was one of those traits that just dug deep beneath her skin, Dumbledore was like that, and it made her sick. She felt it though, his anger building, would he harm her? Accost her in a physical manner? She had spoken out against his decisions, she knew he hated that and knew she needed to be punished... but still there was nothing.

"You disappoint me girl..." no first name basis, only cold hard truth. In the end, if she were to become useless, she would be nothing to him. "I had for you, a task, an important venture worthy only of someone trustworthy, someone, I knew could handle a mission of this magnitude..."

And had he thought of her... was that why she was there?

Suddenly she regretted everything she had just said, every stupid word. She wanted to apologise but knew it useless, he had given her an opportunity to prove herself and she had blown it before even knowing the details...

"Can you do this without allowing your emotions to get in the way Bellatrix..." he spat out her name in a manner that hurt. She looked away, looked at the floor, towards the fire, at the window, anywhere. His stance before her was great, enormous, amazing, and she felt like nothing more then a screw up, desperate for his attention, desperate to be in his light. She wanted to be useful, she craved his praise, his knowing looks. In secret she loved him.

"I will do anything you wish of me sir.."

Quietly he stood her chair upright and forced her into the seat. Her eyes were wide, gazing upwards upon his half human body. "Dedicate yourself to me Bellatrix," he whispered softly, his face drawing nearer her own. "Show the world how powerful you really are..." his lips seemed to disappear into his face, like they hardly existed, but she could feel traces of them lingering over her own.

All she could do was nod.

"I need you, and whoever you see fit, to procure a certain special item for me..." he began to explain, crouching before the young raven hairs beauty, "An Item Albus Dumbledore has secretly hidden away within the depths of that old castle of his... do you know of what it is I speak?" She shook her head no, and all Voldemort could do was smile, "it is a book dear one, a book written by Ravenclaw herself, a book which lists off all the enchantments which have been placed upon the school. I need this book Bellatrix."

She Nodded.

"Good girl.." a smooth hand rose, fingers tracing her jaw line softly. "Let no one know of this, and choose only those you trust. Hear me on this, do not attempt this alone. And dear one, the other are expendable, I do not care whether they live or die, but you... you must survive, you must bring me this book.." she waited for something about the baby, but he didn''t need to say it, she saw it reflected within his haunting red eyes. "This mission goes no further then your team, your father mustn''t know.. "

Bellatrix opened her mouth to speak, but Voldemort hushed her, his fingers placed upon her lips, "not even your father..." he repeated with a nod, awaiting her understanding.

She nodded quickly, wondering to herself the importance of the book, wondering the significance of such a stupid and trivial mission. It seemed silly, but she would do as her lord asked. Already she systematically reviewed names within her head, ready to make Lord Voldemort proud.

"Good my child, good. "Quickly he rose to his feet, cloak swishing behind him as he spun around, obviously excited at the prospect of his plan succeeding. "Now you hurry on upstairs, Lestrange awaits the loving mother to be. Sleep well my child, for this is the beginning of something very big.. "

It felt like she had been buried in sand, her body felt heavy, almost impossible to move. It was her chance... there was so much she could do, so much she would do... the possibilities were endless. She retreated towards the doorway without a word to say on the matter, mind littered with alternate scenarios.

"And Bellatrix" his voice rang out one last time, "Kill anyone who gets in your way my dear, I mean anyone..."

Her mind jumped to the marauders, James, Remus, Beau, Charlie, Anny.._. Sirius_... her stomach ached.. A feeling she dismissed as a part of the pregnancy, but would this really be the end?

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**A/N** allllllrighty and that is that... please read and review!! I really want to know what people think and if I should write more!


	2. Chapter 2

Without the will to argue Bellatrix found her way up the old wooden steps. The house itself held a deathly oder, the pungent scent reminded her of a graveyard. She had been ordered to follow through on yet another mission; one of grave importance, one which had stole her away from her warm and comfortable bed that evening. In some strange way, this place had become a grave yard, a place were shards of her former being came to lie at rest. Spread amidst the dust clumps and scattered debris, Bellatrix could have sworn she saw the makings of a powerful woman, a woman crushed beneath an oppressive regime.

Nothing matter but that which the dark lord wished, even if it did mean losing oneself in the process. Many casualties lie at the base of this war, losses on both sides of the fence. She had watched those around her drop like flies, envious of their freedom as death came to embrace their poor souls. They, the unknowns, the blank faces, they were able, in their last and dying movements to maintain their dignity and honour, a privilege it seemed that had been reserved only for the men.

Unconsciously she ascended the steps, her form filled with a strange sort of rigidity and grave coldness. Those on watch bellow, allowed their eyes to follow her solemn march, a woman condemned to a life of servitude and belittlement. Within her mind she merely followed the wishes blessed upon her by her lord and master. She desperately tried to rationalize it all, the Blacks simply did not belong upon a leash. Rodolphus and his pompous arrogance held no sway over her actions, she merely did as Lord Voldemort asked. He alone held such a power and right to demand this of her. He was power and grace, her life in a matter of words; his mere presence caused her knees to grow weak and pathetic. Beneath his watchful eye she was but a child blossoming in the world of adults, a creature, like any other, pressured beneath his demands.

She followed his commands, lead in the belief that he knew exactly what she wanted, or how to attain that which she desired. The truth however was painfully obvious; she was a puppet, like those beneath her own demanding presence. She was no better then the drones who scrambled at her feet, desperate for her approval as they ran amuck, lost in the chaos which lie in her wake. Her relationship with Rodolphus, how they all had once taken turns with her, even the baby. She had been convinced this was something she wanted, something she needed in order to achieve her true goal in life.

She told herself the little one was a blessing, silently cursing its existence. It made her weak, caused doubt and fear with the mind of an oppressor. She felt as if she had become less of a person, lost amongst her demand for power, and the need for approval. She didn't want to believe the baby gave him power, so she told herself its life was something which_ she_ needed. Time and time again she would assure herself that the baby was her decision. Mind over matter was suppose to work, after all what was life but the perception of those who dwelled within.

The stairwell seemed to go on forever, her careful steps falling upon broken boards and a musty carpet. Each muffled step carried her further and further from the person she had been, and close to the creature she had been told she was. It was strange really, when her mind allowed itself to slip back to older days. How quickly the tables had turned, their roles played out in reverse as Bellatrix became the submissive. She had been emasculated, her power and title stripped from her grasp, she should have been born a boy. Time and time again she cursed her father for his inability to produce male offspring. His deep desire to sire a young man who would one day step into his shoes had driven him to doubt upon his daughter in such a manner. He taught her to live without fear, act without consequence. Her entire childhood had been based on a tale stolen from a young boys adventure.

To grow up and be just like Papa, to have people fear and respect her, that was what she had been taught to expect. None of this weaker sex bullshit that came spewing out of McNair and Waldon's mouth's every time she entered the room.

And yet all the blame could not be placed solely upon the shoulders of her one loving father. Dear Ma-ma had a good hand in the cards in which Bellatrix had been dealt. Every bad thing Bellatrix had ever thought about was traced back to her mother. Her impetuous desire to rebel, the manner in which she frequently flaunted herself, everything Bella had ever done as a child had been out of pure resentment of that old hag.

When it was desired Bellatrix play the role of budding debutant, she hesitantly agreed, merely using the role to further gag her mother. _Act like a lady now... _ Those words echoed within her mind, like nails against a chalk board. Act like a lady alright, waltzing about in a fancy dress causing the other ladies to cry, one by one, ducking off to fix their running makeup. Everything was that despicable woman's fault. The entire pregnancy could be turned upon dear Ma-Ma if Bellatrix wished to play ignorant. She had been so desperate to be the polar opposite of everything her mother wished of her that she had fallen into this mould and wound up ... like this.

Bitterness soon welled up from within as her feet came to the realization that there was no more stair left to climb. Long graceful strides led her to the end of her rope and with just a little more she'd have the means to hang herself.

Wouldn't that just gag the whole lot of them. Rodolphus would exit his room in search of his late night _snack_ only to find his _beloved_ along with their unborn child passed on to a better life. It would have been perfect, far from his pawing hands and her mothers hateful words, free from the demon seed implanted within her body.

Not so much as a sound was made as the end of her journey neared, black cloak billowing about her legs as she carried herself along. Pale lights swept over her in a placid stream of dust as it crept through the window in secretive spurts, bathing the young woman in its tranquil light. A shattered mirror hanging crooked upon the wall merely reflected how broken she had actually become, how deep the damage lie. It was now more obvious then ever, people knew, and she hated that. She hated how pathetic if felt, how pathetic _she_ felt.

Her fine ironed robes, wrinkled and kinked, spoiled with mud from her long days travel. Long ebony tresses once confined to a proper prudent bun now lie in a dishevelled mess, stray stands tormenting her flesh as they traipsed along the back of her neck. Pale skin mimicked moonstone, a pale opal or blue color as she continued on beneath the light of the moon. Perfect blue crystals etched and sadness and knowing, lie beneath heavily accented lashes and lined eyelids. Never before had she appeared so desperate for sleep, never had her body demanded it so much. A heavy nagging pried desperately upon her consciousness, reminding her that her evening was far from over.

She needed this rendezvous like she needed a hole in the head, but her 'lover' had demanded her presence. A demand she begrudgingly gave in to. Now she stood upon the brink of pure insanity, nimble fingers rose, traipsing along the cold brass doorknob as she contemplated her options.

_Run_

His room was the furthest from the rest, the kings chamber located upon the far end of the house which now lie filled with death eaters. It was their room, a small space for the two of them, she could recall someone saying. _Run_. A place where the expecting mother to be might rest, at ease and away from preying eyes and other pestering gestures. Nothing would bother her there, nothing of course but the pleading hands of her beloved. Those coarse, rough hands so filled with demand and lust. As if he was the only one that mattered.

Quietly she brushed her cheek against the cold material over her shoulder, attempting to suppress the tears which now threatened their desperate escape. _Run._ It had to be the hormones. _Run. _

"Be careful Roddy" It was the voice of a trembling female the broke Bellatrix from her thoughts. The voice was broken, as if strained by tears, and was coming from the alternate side of the door. Odd really,

How strange...

Bellatrix peered in wonder at the black stained surface before her. Her eyes travelling over every crack and notch, watching the way the stain lifted in places, revealing the naked pale wood beneath. It didn't seem to register, another woman in the room with Rodolphus, the mere thought seemed impossible. He claimed to love her and only her, the way a man was suppose to love a woman. Brought up within a proper home, the mere thought of adulatory would have caused his skin to crawl.

But she was brought up within a proper home, one not so different from his own. She was privy to all the luxuries and lessons, the same cold hand upon her cheek whenever she was to be punished, and the idea of bedding another man didn't bother her in the least. In fact, it held amusement and allowed her a moment to fantasize. Within that thought alone, she became angry, wondering why it was that she cared so much. Love was never something she claimed to believe in, it was a fallacy, a falsehood, something you add to bedtime stories to make the world seem like a better place.

The mumbling of a man's deep raspy voice then followed. What exactly fell from his lips, she would never know, Rodolphus had the amazing habit of speaking in such low and mellow tones. It added to his mysterious air while driving Bellatrix positively mad.

"It can't go on forever, not like this. I won't have it, I just won't, not what that baby on the way."

At this point Bellatrix didn't know whether she should scream of cry. _That _baby, their baby. This women referred to the child she carried like it was a disease to be terminated. True, Bella herself had never truly cared about the small ones well being, but that was her prerogative, as the mother she had the right to exercise any dislike for the little creature. She and she alone was allowed to hate or love the infant growing within her body, the rest of the world would just have to love and accept the fact she was pregnant.

The conversation seemed to trail on for eternity. When finally a silence fell upon them Bellatrix wondered whether he had taken the other woman to bed. Was he lying with her now, his strong arms wrapped around her being, treating her to small extravagances Bellatrix only dreamed of.

She waited, almost too afraid to move. She'd never wanted him more then she did in that quiet moment. It had never occurred to her how much she might actually need him, how much they needed him.

A timid hand rose to the small lump which had developed upon her front. _They._ She would kill whatever creature lie beyond that wooden door. Take pleasure in how she might squirm, lavish in her bloodstained cries, listening as she slowly drown from the inside. No one would steal away the one thing that might stop her from losing her mind. He wouldn't leave her with the responsibility of raising a child all on her own. Not when he had forced the little bundle upon her, he wasn't allowed such pleasures.

_One... two... three..._

She counted the seconds, gathering her strength before pushing the door open. The massive structure slid beneath her force as Bellatrix motioned to enter the room. Her form paused but a moment as the warmth from inside swept around her, enveloping her tired form within a peaceful embrace. With bated breath she forced her feet to take the first of many steps entering the painfully quiet room which fell before her. At her back, she allowed the door to shut, her eyes searching the room for any sign of life.

A fire burned within its hearth, a broken desk littered with documents and books and a bed neatly made, sunken in beneath the weight of a man perched upon its edge. He sat with his back facing the door, his body slumped, hands prying at the unkempt mess of bangs which danced within his line of vision. He was alone...

Bellatrix stood a moment lost within a world of confusion; her eyes lingered upon the fire before they found their way towards the bed. They lingered upon the dip in the mattress before moving towards a pair of exposed hips and the naked flesh of his back. She watched the curve of his spine, allowing her eyes to snake their way up and along his particularly welcoming flesh. Never had he appeared so childlike and alone, his face blending with his palms, lost in thought and oblivious to her presence. She wondered in the quiet darkness what it was that had caused such and innocence to surface. Watching as his shoulders rose and fell with every deep breath he allowed into his body. Not since they had been children did Bellatrix recall Rodolphus so lost. His guard was down, placing him at the mercy of any dark heart.

As his body rose from the bed, it was the small things which drew her attention. The way the mattress sprung back to life, how his pants fell just centimetres lower. The manner in which his shoulders tensed, how he licked his lips, lost in thought. His feet seemed to carry him towards the fireplace where she watched his body rest. The warm glow of sparking embers dancing across his skin, drawing more attention to the fact he still remained topless. The shadows swallowed him whole as she remained locked upon the spot. He was leaning against the mantel across from her, elbow pressed against the warm wooden ledge, his hands cautiously rubbing the stubble upon his jaw. It was something he often did while thinking.

_Bellatrix._

Did he allow his mind to drift, lingering upon thoughts of her as he stared so longingly into the flames?

_Bellatrix_

From where she stood, she could see the deep pools of his eyes, transfixed upon how the flames fluttered about, jumping and smothering one another the way small children or animals might play.

Did he think of their child as his fingers massaged at his cheek bones? His hand moving over his forehead to become lost amidst long locks of chestnut. It looked as though he hadn't shaved in weeks, his hair long and unkempt as he tugged on a few stray stands. He looked just as tired as she felt, though she'd never know for certain. Neither communicated their fears of emotions to one another verbally, but took their frustrations out upon each other in acts of physical violence, or sex. Maybe that was their problem...

As Rodolphus finally turned his head, flames caught amidst the marbled chocolate and pooling sadness, he realized he was no longer alone. There Bellatrix stood, her cool orbs watching him curiously, careful not to be stolen by the darkness. She stood like a ghost, a figment of his imagination, something he had desired so deeply that his fragile mind just gave in to.

"I'm here..." her words broke the silence, lingering within the air as if she needed to confirm her presence.

He knew she was there; his knees dipped slightly causing him to grasp the wooden mantelpiece for support. No other woman could weaken him as she did. She was a drug, an addiction, the one thing that made him feel weak and filled with shame. He did not speak, only wished he could be stronger, the kind of man she wanted at her side.

Words at this point seemed foolish, pointless as inside he felt his tower of strength slowly crumble. Sadness and emotion wrapped around his vocal cords threatening his speech with childish terror. Instead he gave a curt nod, his gaze turning back upon the fire as if somewhere within the blend of yellow and orange lie an answer to his plight.

He could loose her at any point in time, their lives were expendable, and yet all he ever managed to do was bruise that immaculate pale skin she so delicately wore. What thanks was that for granting him her reluctant presence? What appreciation had he ever granted her but harsh words and dull monotonous sex?

Pain welled up within the centre of his being as he allowed his eyes to fall upon her maternal form, quietly making her way towards him. Long fingers raking through a never ending mess of chocolate tresses as he stole glances from the corner of his eye. He felt ashamed to have allowed his eyes the slightest glance at her tired exterior. She was there because he wanted it, because he wanted her, and there she stood as rigid as a board. Those expectant eyes watching sceptically, mocking him as if to say, _'let's get this over with'_, as if all he wanted from her was a release, somewhere to dump all his aggression and sperm.

_Bitch_. Couldn't she smile for him, could she smile at all? Never had Rodolphus loved someone to the point of hating them so much., She was everything he had ever wanted to be, more powerful then he, more cunning, manipulative, with an exterior of stone, practically impenetrable. So very unlike himself. He fought desperately to hide the hurt and anguish eating away at his insides.

_Something please, just smile._

Nothing

_Heartless Bitch. _His mind agonized.

_Useless Bastard._ Her mind echoed, followed by a slue of vulgar names in which she wished to scream in his face. Her lips parted to speak, a breath upon her lips only to lie cut off beneath the presence of his own. The embrace itself felt foreign,. Not rough and demanding like she had become accustomed to, but lost and urgent like a child searching for meaning. His movements were sloppy and confused, the rough base of his palm sliding over her cheeks to become tangled within the helpless strands of fallen hair. Her body recoiled but slightly, watching as his eyes shut tight.

Was he pretending she was someone else? Maybe that their lives were just a little different?

She wanted to know, she needed to know, but became lost within his desperation, his tongue lapping at the plump surface of her lower lip. It tickled and burned the way he suckled upon the warm flesh, waiting for her to give in beneath the pressure of his desire.

Why was this so different from before?

Her mind slipped back to the voice she had heard just moments prior. _Bastard_

His lips moved from the warmth of her mouth down and along her jaw line, tracing each and every curve delicately. He was searching for something, the way in which his lips met her flesh, tongue quietly flicking over the sensitive part of her neck, just beneath her earlobe.

She smelt just like candy, a beautiful floral arrangement melded together with a sparse hint of amoretto. He loved it. The way the delicate aroma became lost within her hair. The way a soft nibble at her ear caused all the walls she had worked so hard to forge, to come crumbling down around her feet, He felt it, the moment she relaxed, the way her neck arched into his embrace, allowing better access to the areas he knew were important. He love that he could break her, the small moan muffled within her throat urging him on.

Still she seemed to hold back, her body shuddering beneath his touch, the way his fingers worked through her hair, releasing it from its restrains. It must had been wet before she threw it up, the rich scent of her shampoo linger upon every lock. It bounced as it fell, cascading over her shoulders, shadowing his face in a pool of haphazard curls. The dampness against his cheek caused his to smile slightly, filling his senses with everything that she was.

Quietly his fingers urged on, slipping beneath the heavy material of the cloak she wore. He wanted to feel her soft skin beneath his. To allow his mouth more area to roam as his rid her piece by piece of those pesky clothes. He wanted her to fill the void which was growing dangerously large beneath his chest cavity.

It was her footsteps that carried them to the bed, her cloak drifting to the floor in a heavy thud as Rodolphus released the clasp. She didn't know why she had become so compliant, but his movements urged her on.

The bed gave way slightly beneath the weight of the young mothers body, Rodolphus' eyes watching hungrily as she slipped through his embrace despite his protest. His eyes followed every dip and contour of her body, waiting impatiently for the moment meant for him to pounce. The distance slowly tearing him apart, he watched as she crossed her legs, eyes swallowed every hint of flesh her clothing allowed. Long slender legs lie tucked away within flat tread boots, the leather crawling up her calve. Then a break, a small patch of flesh left to tantalize the imagination before the hem of her skirt began.

He loved the way her thighs had filled out, the manner in which the small bump growing within her tugged upon her curves, emphasizing each and every little dip. The weight she complained about had placed itself promptly upon her chest and other cushioned areas allowing her thinned figure a more mature and healthy look. Oh how he wished she could stay that way forever, he'd keep her perpetually pregnant if she'd allow it, or maybe some of that baby weight might stick around. _Doubtful_.

Rodolphus dropped to his knees, his hands travelling up the young woman's healthy legs. He would feel the embrace of his fingertips bringing warmth and life back into her body as a small shiver crept down her spine. The touch however remained PG as he inched his hands along the cloth of her skirt, drawing her knees from their angled position. She watched awestruck with curiosity as his hands grasped at her hips, his strong form drawing closer as he placed him self between her knees.

This had never happened before. His attention so set upon her, his embrace so kind, hands exploring not demanding, fumbling in a way that reminded her of a teenager. He was lost in her world, amazed at the way in which her body seemed to work. Everything about her was new to him, the way her hips against the bed, how her tummy seemed to protrude giving way to a life which was developing within.

Slowly she could feel the material of her sweater creeping up over her sides. His hands slid the length of her body allowing the material to rest against the small protrusion. They went no further then that brought back down to rest upon the small baby bump which Bellatrix nursed. Rodolphus seemed to intent upon watching the small space, as if it might grow inch by inch if he only watched it long enough. He was a child watching intently before he allowed his ear to rest against the gap of clothing.

"You won't hear anything yet..." Bellatrix found herself saying, her words soft as she found her fingers lost within his hair.

Rodolphus merely smiled, allowing but a breath escape his lips. He didn't care and Bellatrix knew it, there was just something about the embrace that made him feel, whole. She knew it because she felt it too. A sudden warmth wrap around her shoulders as if to tell her everything would somehow be ok in the end.

"I want you to stop with this death eater stuff..."

Bella's eyes shot open upon the sudden request, suddenly want there to be space between their bodies. "What...?"

Rodolphus only smiled, pressing his nose against his stomach as if he hadn't said a word. "I want you to stop..."

He sounded almost worried as those words lingered in the air. It seemed almost impossible for Bellatrix to comprehend such a simple statement, but he was serious. She found herself wondering whether it was out of concern of jealousy he made such a profound request, thoughts lingering upon how betrayed she suddenly felt.

"Don't give me that look Bella..."

"What look?" She shot back defensively.

"That one..."

How could he be so calm...?

"It's too dangerous for you now, you haven't been fully initiated yet, you can still back out..."

It seemed he had given this a great deal of thought, like this was something important to him. Like she was important to him. "I don't... I... the Lord..."

"Oh for fuck sakes Bellatrix," His hands had slid from his body and now struck the bed, a vibration felt throughout Bella's entire being, "I really don't give a damn what he..."

"Don't say that" she hissed, cutting him off before he said something foolish, "Just don't... and don't yell either, I'll listen, just speak calmly..." What was she saying?

"You're pregnant for god sakes Bellatrix, and not just a little anymore, granted you're not waddling around yet..." the thought brought a smile to Rodolphus' lips which he tried desperately to suppress, "but you're months in... I can't loose the baby... I can't..." Broken words and he was on his feet, pacing around like a mad man, his hand stretched up and behind his head.

Did she even want to hear this? She hadn't even bothered to really yell at him yet, she just sat there calmly awaiting his explanation. "I can't lose you... not you..."

"What's..."

"Pere... "He stopped himself, his childhood name for father lingering within his mouth as he attempted to remain calm, "My father Bellatrix, he's dead. He wasn't even in this war, and he was consumed by it. I can't... I won't loose you to it."

The pleading within his voice broken her heart, a realization setting in which stole her breath before it fell from her lips, "I..." There was nothing she could say or do, no condolences grave enough for the loss he had experienced. She found herself screaming within, wondering why the once strong and mighty Bellatrix Black was giving in to such strange emotions, "Ok..."

What was she saying? How could she say this?

He dropped to his knees, hands seeking hers in a desperate attempt to find the flaw or punch line to the obscure joke.

"Ok" she repeated, though her consent would not come without a price. "I agree, I'll duck out, stay quiet, for now. After the baby is born however, we're a team in this, I will not be reduced to house wife and stepping stone. I want back, I want power again." Plain and simple, no questions to be asked, Bellatrix, gave her lovers hand a light squeeze. She was determined to twist this whole situation to her advantage, to gain power, power she deserved.

"Together..." he added with a strange sort of smirk, his lips contorted into the sort of smile, thought only caught on TV. He knew he couldn't fight it, her will to barrel on, bull-headed and blind in the face of adversity. Yet he'd have it no other way.

"That means I expect a little more discursion from you."

Rodolphus quirked his head some, "how's this now?"

Somewhere between the talk of death and babies, the two had picked up a flirtatious air in how they spoke of their agreement. Rodolphus happy to have the worry off his chest, Bellatrix confident she wouldn't be out of the runnings for long.

Somehow it felt as though she gained more from this then he. Her lust for power too strong and unyielding. In a way, it had given her power over Voldemort himself, a thought which sent waves of excitement riveting through her being.

"I can't be left to raise the little one on my own." She stated simply, wondering to herself where this person had suddenly come from, this being which had taken hold of her body.

His response only came as a smile, a strong nod as his hands made their way back over her lovely little bump.

"Good, I guess we'll tell the Dark Lord tomorrow."

Still he didn't answer chocolate pools of warmth and arousal gazed upon her from his position upon the floor. She felt his grip tighten as he laughed forwards, knocking her back against the bed, dragging her into a position which left her body open for him explore.

_Everything is going to be just fine..._


End file.
